


i'll try to talk refined

by collieflower



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff without Plot, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Tenderness, i was asked to write soft hand kisses and by god i delivered, period-era but not witcher yanno ?, tenderness without plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23584546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collieflower/pseuds/collieflower
Summary: With a hand on Jaskier's jaw, Geralt kissed him. With fingers knotted in the loose strings of his shirt, Jaskier pulled him close."You're a horror," Jaskier told him, voice dripping sweet as honey in June.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 6
Kudos: 79





	i'll try to talk refined

**Author's Note:**

> i watched like half an hour of people re-shoeing horses for this drabble, guess how much of that knowledge I used. None of it :)
> 
> on the flip side i wanna make geralt a stable master so that's something. 

"I'd say you were incorrigible, Geralt, but I think that means I've given up hope."

Geralt hummed. "Maybe you ought to," he mused somewhat softly.

Jaskier made a disgusted little noise. A grape seed was spat onto the stable floor, lost among the hay and dust and dander. "I do hope you're not holding your breath on that one." Clever fingers tapped along the stall, the rest of Jaskier following after until he draped himself across the length of the wall. He fed another grape into his mouth, working through it with his teeth until another seed was spit to the floor. Geralt shot him a weary glance and continued sweeping the hay out toward the corridor.

"If you think you'll be rid of me that easily, darling, you've gotten me all wrong," Jaskier sang after him.

"Seems I've mistaken you for someone with steps to common sense." He swept his pile out and turned to gather another and muck out the other side of the stall. Jaskier caught the sleeve of his shirt as he passed and pulled him in.

"They should invent new words for the likes of you," Jaskier's words were sure and steady as he straightened. He pressed a grape to Geralt's lips, expression soft and open.

Geralt opened up for him, taking the grape into his mouth. He thought, for a moment, about biting the pad of Jaskier's thumb — to be _incorrigible_ — but Jaskier drew away, his fingers brushing against Geralt's lips.

"You've got enough words for a damn lifetime," Geralt told him, matter-of-fact. The grape seed was bitter between his teeth and hateful against his tongue. "Don't make any more for me."

"It's isn't the quantity," Jaskier scoffed. His hands curled against the top of the divider. Geralt leaned his broom against the wood between his hands. He could almost feel the warmth of Jaskier radiating across the meager space.

Perhaps it was just a trick of the old wood walls that made Geralt think he could hear Jaskier's heart hammer in his chest.

"I could have hundreds of songs, poems," Jaskier went on. His thumbs tapped at the stall. Geralt heard the shuffle of his foot against the floor. "They _could_ all be pigswill." he shrugged, then set a glare on Geralt that held no heat. "My fillingless pie," he muttered. "It's the quality. The right words strung together to make something worthy." His fingers trailed up the broom's handle until they came to Geralt's. Geralt looked down to watch them jump to his wrist, curling over the outside of his hand. "If, my dearest Geralt of Rivia, none could be found," Jaskier took his hand, letting the broom clatter to the hay-covered ground. He pressed a kiss, tender and soft, to the meat of Geralt's palm. There was little Geralt could do to stop the sharp breath in through his nose. Jaskier spoke against his palm, breathing against the tender skin. His eyes never left Geralt's. "—then no amount of works are good enough to fill the void it creates." Jaskier kissed him again before letting their fingers tangle together.

"Hmn," Geralt said, something at a loss for words. He squeezed Jaskier's hand instead. His ribs glowed with a faint warmth to see the smile in Jaskier's eyes, and how he drifted that much closer, squeezing Geralt's hand in his. "Perhaps it just means you're illiterate," he mused, an amused smile coming to his mouth.

Jaskier popped another grape in Geralt's mouth, a disgusted noise tearing from his throat. "They warn you about tough crowds, but one would think they're safe in a _barn_ with their _lover_ ," Jaskier crowed, looking to the heavens for gods only knew what.

Geralt laughed and spat the seed to the floor.

With a hand on Jaskier's jaw, Geralt kissed him. With fingers knotted in the loose strings of his shirt, Jaskier pulled him close.

"You're a horror," Jaskier told him, voice dripping sweet as honey in June.

Geralt hummed and kissed him again. "It sounds like you've found your word.”

Jaskier huffed a laugh against his mouth. “Maybe you’re right.” He stood straight again and took his hands back to himself. “Oh, how many hours I’m going to spend editing all those brilliant poems to fit you, now.”

“You’d better get started.”

“Mm, I should.” He made no move to leave. “And yet here we are.” He took up Geralt’s hand again and kissed his knuckles. It was chaste and fleeting. Something Geralt has seen him do to a dozen or more women. Something that felt too soft to be pressed into the likes of his own rough hands.

Jaskier delved into his pocket and came up with a handful of the grapes. The sweet red ones that were no doubt stolen from the vine just before the harvesters gathered them to be pressed. Gave the lot of them to Geralt and closed his hand around them.

“Something to remember me by,” he offered with a shrug, eyes bright and mischievous. He swiped his thumb over the hollow of Geralt’s wrist and stepped away, bowing at the waist. “Until we’re reunited, my love.”

Geralt snorted dryly, “dinner time?”

“Oh, gods. Hopefully before then.”

Geralt rolled his eyes, his smile bright and fond as Jaskier waved and slipped out of the barn.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/olliedemitri)


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